


House of Haze

by nnyatthedmv



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Dib Has Issues (Invader Zim), Drug Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Human, Human AU, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Trauma, Verbal Abuse, ZADF, schitzoprenic Dib
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnyatthedmv/pseuds/nnyatthedmv
Summary: au where the irkens are just people traumatized and manipulated into thinking they are an alien race.Dib hallucinates that Zim is truly and alien ect and hijinks ensueTW FOR ABUSE/SOME SEXUAL CONTENT/HALLUCINATIONS
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	1. Fall Out Of Line

The little boy sitting in the grass had a look of disgust on his face as an older boy ran around happily, chasing a small butterfly. The younger boy was thin and pale, had short, dark hair, with a large scar across his nose, and a bruised eye. The older boy had more of a tan, longer blond hair, and was wearing cheap blue goggles.

  
“Masta’ what we doin????” The older boy shrieked excitedly.

  
“Waiting, GIR. Our tallest are busy, we should not bother them.”

  
GIR flopped down onto the grass, his oversized hoodie beginning to get grass stained already. The smaller boy picked at the perfect grass nervously. The two sat in silence for a few minutes as the older boy rolled up his sleeves, revealing heavily bruised arms. The younger boy yawned.

  
GIR exclaimed. “Aunt Miyuki and Uncle Spork are comin’ today! I’mma make waffles, Zim!”

  
“You mean MASTER, GIR. And I’m aware. I’m going to have to invent something wonderful to impress them.”

  
“Mmmyep!” GIR already waddled toward the house.

  
“GIR! Away from the Tallest’s transmission!” Zim stood up, eyes widening in fear.

  
GIR made a pouty face. “But imma make waffles!”

  
Zim’s face seemed to pause and struggle, as if he couldn’t tell which emotion to convey. His brows furrowed, and he shifted his feet. He knew he shouldn't do this, but it had been forever since they had fun baking something.

  
“Zim will come with you.”

  
GIR had already opened the door, and Zim hurried after him. Empty alcohol bottles and plastic bags littered the kitchen table. The microwave was hanging by a screw and a couple wires. Dirty dishes and food wrappers littered the kitchen counter.

  
A tall male figure dressed in red whirled into the room. It was a man. He was no older than 18, also pale and skinny. His eyes were bloodshot and his face immediately contorted into a look of hate.

  
“Why the fuck are you in the house?! You aren't supposed to be in the house when Pur is sleeping!” The man yelled, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

  
Gir smiled, as if the yelling passed right by his ears. “To make waffles!”

  
The man grabbed GIR’s wrist tightly. “STUPID FAG!”  
  
GIR screamed, as Zim’s heart beat too quickly and he teared up. The man slapped GIR across the face. GIR was crying loudly, sniffling and shaking.

  
“GET OUT!”

  
Zim ran for the door, as did GIR. They both stumbled on the doorway and fell onto the pavement. GIR was still crying. Zim crawled closer and held him.

  
“It’s okay. It’s okay. The Tallest didn’t mean it. We can make waffles later.” Zim ran his hands through GIR’s hair. His knees and palms stung, cut and covered in dirt and sand from the pavement. GIR's face was red and he had a small scratch on his cheek from hitting the pavement. Snot and tears ran from GIR's face.

  
GIR nodded quietly, sniffling and wiping his tears.

  
“Don’t forget, we start the mission tomorrow.”


	2. Life Isn't Black And White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Dib and how his family is struggling

"Dib, time for school!"

The boy fell out of his bed, cursing quietly as he jumped to his feet. Grabbing his glasses, he stumbled down the stairs quickly.

He stopped before fully entering the kitchen. Someone with thin, elongated arms and fingers was standing behind his sister, their face obscured. They waved limply at him, stomach gored and organs hanging out. Blood was dripping onto the floor in a puddle around Gaz's feet. Gaz peered at him.

"Dib, are you even paying attention?"

Dib shook his head, to notify Gaz he wasn't. He closed his eyes and went to the fridge, then poured himself a bowl of cereal warily, trying his best to forget the image before him.

"Dib, you just spilled the milk."

He looked down at the puddle of milk around his socks and sighed. Biting his lip, he stepped out of the puddle.

"Good morning kids! Dib, sweetie, you spilled the milk." The man, Archibald Membrane, or as Dib called him "Professor Membrane" shuffled into the small kitchen, and handed Dib a wet towel.

Dib blinked at the blood-soaked towel before tossing it onto the puddle of milk. "Dad, why is it bloody..?"

His dad put two slices of toast into the toaster and paced away to get ready for another day of work. "Gaz, help your brother! I have to leave in ten minutes!"

"Dib, our dryer broke. Remember? You smashed it with a hammer because you thought it was haunted..?" Gaz grabbed the toast and handed a piece to Dib.

Something about the toast seemed _off._ He threw it with a yelp.

"DIB! G-" Gaz took a deep breath in frustration. "Dib, it's just toast."

She picked it off the counter and handed it to him, covered in ants. He tossed it into the sink. She gritted her teeth.

"Fine! Fine, go to school without breakfast! Fine!" She stomped off.

He hurried after her. "But it was covered in ants!"

She stopped and turned to him.

"It was actually fine, you're just hallucinating. Just like how that towel was wet because we don't have a dryer because you hallucinated. Like how Dad works in a factory, and isn't a world-renowned scientist. Like how we're actually very poor. Like how this is the first year we're going to a school. Like how dad is struggling with bills to get us backpacks!" Gaz snapped.

With that she grabbed her backpack from the front door and stormed outside.

Dib looked after her.

"School's tomorrow."


	3. Hail The Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gir makes waffles, zim is there, we meet spork

Zim blew dust off the glass lens. Gir was beside him, plate of toaster waffles in hand, leg bouncing. The microscope was almost finished, it just needed small sample plates.

"Gir, get me some of your old goggles. Or come with me to the store. We have a few hours before Miyuki arrives, if my time estimation is correct. What time is it?"

Gir looked at the clock for a moment. "11:43! Can we please go to the store? I wanna show off my outfit!"

The bruises on Gir's face were still highly evident, but Zim kept makeup in the garage as well.

"Very well. I'll help you with your disguise, then put on mine."

He grabbed the makeup and began applying it to Gir's bruises and cuts, who was giggling.

"It tickles!"

"Yes, it does." Zim chuckled quietly.

The makeup didn't fully disguise the cuts, but it was good enough for Zim, who dusted some concealer on his face and put the makeup back in its hiding spot.

"Dollar store?" It was a rhetorical question, but Zim always asked.

Gir nodded, smiling excitedly. His green sweatshirt sleeves flapped around as he danced excitedly. Zim gently grabbed him, stiled him, and pulled his hood up, showing the sewn-on fake dog ears. Gir leaned into Zim’s grasp, resting his head on Zim’s chest.

“I love you master.” 

“Gir, you’re a wonderful robot.” Zim ruffled his hair. “Now, let us go!”

The two paced down the street, with Gir stopping to look at animals and passersby. They crossed the road, almost being hit.

“What the fuck!?” a voice yelled from out of a car that had just skidded to a stop, inches away from Zim’s angry face.

Zim seethed, then hissed out sharp words between his teeth. “How  _ dare _ you! You almost hit the ALMIGHTY ZIM!”

The driver, clad in a neon green sweatshirt, reached into his pocket to call the police as Zim wasn’t moving. Gir was a couple miles away, talking to a homeless woman as he gave her various candy sweets and a frozen burrito he had hidden in his sweatshirt pocket.

Zim looked around, realizing Gir was gone with a bit of anxiety. The driver began to exit his car, and Zim tensed in fear, hoping he wouldn’t have to fight.

“You.” The man seethed, grabbing Zim by the arm. “Where’s the SIR, you freak?”


End file.
